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What’s his mood? I can’t tell. He seemed in a good mood, making French toast and bacon for breakfast before I even got out of the shower, but then he shaved his beard and sheared his gorgeous curls way down, and…I don’t know. It seemed so random. He seemed tense after he did it. He still seems off.
We latch hands for takeoff, and I cover us with the bear blanket Rett got me for Christmas. It’s fleece, with a picture of a black bear wandering the woods. Fitting, since Rett is staying at my place most of the nights we’ll be gone.
When we reach cruising altitude, Barrett looks down at me and gives me a gentle smile. A few minutes later, he’s asleep, slumped over in his seat, his cheek resting on my shoulder. Poor guy. I know he hasn’t been sleeping well these last few days.
I can’t help wondering if it’s me. If it’s this trip. He has those dreams about seeing people he knows lying dead, and this trip— It’s kind of about that. About how I was hurt. About the accident. At this point, I think everyone knows that. Why I keep coming out here every year, even last year, when I played third wheel to Jamie and Nic. Because I’m seeking closure.
What they don’t know is I might have found it.
Only Helga knows so far: I think I recognized the voice. The man’s voice. My attacker in the bear enclosure. His voice was familiar. When I think about it, I smell beer. I feel beer slosh over my arm. I think someone called me “snowflake.”
Just snippets. She said it’s not unusual at all. I’ll probably never remember everything on my own, not with a traumatic brain injury, but I could still remember little bits and pieces.
I knew that guy, once. Or know him now. In my dreams, I recognized his voice. I found tickets to an exclusive-ish whiskey ba
r where celebrities like to hang out on Main Street. Barrett wants to take me there on New Year’s Eve. And that’s a good thing. It’s not even a block from Gemütlichkeit—where I spent my last night as my old self. Where I got a stranger’s scarf and spilled beer on my shirt.
Barrett loves me, I think as I snuggle in beside him. With him here, I think I just might solve some mysteries.
* * *
“So Nic is staying next door and you’re here?”
With a little side jump and one palm for balance, Jamie shifts to sit on the counter, but her butt knocks the alarm clock off.
“Oof.” Her mouth is full of toothpaste. I giggle and scoop the clock up.
“You and the bathroom alarm clock.” I shake my head.
“The only way,” she mouths, losing a small glob of toothpaste bubbles.
“Ewww.”
She makes a face at me and spits. “It’s the only way,” she says around brushing her teeth, “because…you know.” She spits again. “You have to walk in here. It wakes you up.”
I laugh. I do know. That’s why I keep my alarm in arms’ reach—so I can reach the snooze button.
“Anyway.” She rinses her mouth out and sets her toothbrush in the little pewter holder. “Yeah, Nic’s parents kinda have a hard Christmas, you know, so we thought that would be better.”
“Will he be sneaking in your window like last year?”
She smiles. “No. We’re an old couple now.”
“I didn’t say it.”
“Pshh. Not lately. You’re too busy with your own man.”
I can’t even help it. I start beaming like a kid with candy.
“He’s nice looking, G. I mean, nice looking.”
Cue more beaming.
“It’s too soon to say, but I think my girl might have gotten lucky.”
I’m giggling, even as I roll my eyes and throw my head back. Which reminds me I should pull my hair up. Which I do.
Jamie starts to wash her face, so I can talk without her omniscient eyes on me.
